


Don't Stop the Cards

by MiraculousTalenny



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: 2d - Freeform, 2doc - Freeform, Cute, Fluffy, Gay, M/M, No Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Valentine's, Valentine's Day, happy valentine's day, illaddmoretagslater, kILlme, murdoc - Freeform, studoc - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 23:23:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13692003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiraculousTalenny/pseuds/MiraculousTalenny
Summary: Every year since Gorillaz began, on Valentine's Day morning 2D wakes up to a generous card slipped underneath his door by his "secret admirer". This year, though, the vocalist decides he is going to find out who exactly is flattering him yearly. Who has been behind the door all these years?





	Don't Stop the Cards

**Author's Note:**

> Pardon my rushed writing and poor grammar; this came to mind during a particularly painful headache as I was eating chocolate hearts. Fuck ship hate, we are allowed to ship who we want in fandoms. Anyway, Happy (late) Valentine's Day to everyone who reads this! Enjoy the fluffy 2Doc.

Ever since Gorillaz was formed, no matter where they were (tour buses, hotels, celebrity-collaborators’ cribs), every year on February 14th, 2D would always receive a neatly written, well-thought Valentine’s card. 

The vocalist always got Valentine cards mailed to his P.O. box from die-hard fangirls; they’d confess their undying love (lust) to him in folded pieces of pink or red paper. A few stood out to him, but otherwise, he’d just give them to Noodle for her scrapbooking or artsy ideas. 

The young guitarist accepted the cards happily, unaware of the many hearts she was breaking whilst cutting them. 

Each year, on the 14th of February, before 2D would wake from his usual pill-induced slumber, a thick piece of red cardboard paper cut into a plump, bodacious heart with neat handwriting on the back would always be slide underneath his door that morning. If it wasn’t any brighter or noticable, it would have been stepped on, swept up, or the reason behind 2D’s sore rump from slipping and falling on his ass. 

The Valentine’s Day card was ultimately simple; nothing too fancy and no designs that could’ve cost a fortune to obtain the materials for. The card was always addressed to him by “2D”, and left him with no clues to who wrote it. The handwriting was beautiful, a characteristic that the singer did not know who it belonged to. He hadn’t written cursively since elementary. It was required to practice the writing style at the school he attended.

The first time he got a Valentine card slipped underneath his door, 2D laughed full-heartedly and joyfully. He wasn’t mad but did make a small deal of mocking the card’s existence to hide his surprise and ease how much his heart fluttered from appreciation. The black-eyed singer didn’t know who to thank, though, and it bothered him only slightly.

The following year, it happened again. The exact same style, but different dialogue, written cursively and truly flattering the singer. 2D didn’t laugh this time to hide how he really felt and instead, he read the piece of paper quickly like it was instructions to how long he should microwave his breakfast, clutching it to his chest like a defibrillator afterwards.. 

The singer would smile to himself and chuckle giddily before carefully placing the card in a small box he’d designated for his apparent secret admirer, placing it on top of the previous year’s card. 

The card exchange (not really an exchange due to 2D being unable to write back) would repeat itself for the years to come. 2D would always have a great day Valentine’s Day with flattery swelling in his chest, escaping with every joyful breath like smoke, and he’d smile so wide when he added another card to the box that held his collection. 2D never really thought to search for the person behind the cards’ existence, though, as if he was terrified of discovering that secret, frightened that he may not get any more after the discovery.

The mentally-deficient singer finally made the obvious realization that his secret admirer was amongst his bandmates because he noticed that whenever the band had broken up (after Demon Days for example), during those years of isolation, he never received any cards, just letters from previous bird’s demanding money for child support. 

He didn’t need Murdoc or Russel to knock some sense into him over that anymore; it only took him a few years. 

This morning, though, 2D was sat on his bed in his room, staring at his door intently, watching for shadows underneath the door's mass that may indicate anyone’s presence. The Valentine’s Day card he’d been expecting hasn’t been slipped underneath his door yet, thank Buddha, and curiosity was slowly killing him. He needed to know who was sending these to him. They were too sweetly written to be Noodle’s doing. She didn’t even know English when he first began to receive them. 

That left Murdoc and Russel. 

2D sighed dejectedly at the thought. The singer had asked them both before if they’d been slipping the card’s under his door. Russel replied his iconic “Nah, man” and cautiously suggested he ask Murdoc, which he did...

Murdoc backhanded him across the face and called him a faggot before stomping off with a red face, heading towards the Spirit House’s liquor cabinet the bassist gleefully discovered (and emptied within a week and restocked the next day). 

Poor 2D went to sleep that evening without dinner, his cheek stinging and his nose bleeding by the hour due to the impact. There goes his hopes that the bassist may have felt something towards his lanky self. 

Brushing those thoughts away, the singer noted that the time was now 7:06 am and absolutely nothing has happened yet. 2D yawned loudly, groaning as his jaw popped, grabbing his pill bottle and popping a few opiates to get rid of an upcoming migraine he knew was there. 

They magically kicked in quite quickly and the thudding against the insides of his skull reduced itself to a fuzzy, tingling haze that left him sighing in pure content. His blinds and lights were off, as always, but to ease the painful strain off his blood-swollen eyes, 2D covered his head with his dark blue plaid quilt, pushing the palms of his hands into his eyes hard, rubbing them in circles slowly as a sort of massage. 

Silence. No footsteps, kitchen pots before banged against each other, or Russel’s catastrophic snoring that often caused tremors. 2D could see spirals of gold underneath his eyelids as he pressed the quilt harder against his eyes with his palms, massaging them a little more roughly to ease the soreness of them. He hated insomnia sometimes.

Those gold spirals swerved and curved in his mind like Chinese dragons crawling across his inner eyelids, and they eventually began to spell out words taken from the previous Valentine’s Day cards he’d received. 

Angel…stunning...perfect...se-

Then there was a noise. Finally! 

Wood against wood, better yet, boots against hardwood floors. The floorboards in the hallway creaked with each loud step. The singer gasped, excitement gushing up his stomach like a volcano as he threw the quilt from his head, swiftly bouncing off his mattress onto his feet. 2D’s vision cleared and he watched the light underneath his door disappear - a dark shadow in its way. 

The singer felt his world slow as he quietly tiptoed towards the door, hand outstretched towards the doorknob, preparing to catch whoever was behind the door. Through the wood, he could hear a hushed grunt as the person bent down to slip…  
...the card…  
...underneath…  
...the doo- NOW!

Turning the doorknob, 2D hastily pushed the door open only to trap his secret admirer’s fingers underneath the door, catching and tearing the skin of his knuckles and crumpling the card in the middle. 

“Ah, fuck! Satan!! Fuckin’ ‘ell!” 

Murdoc Niccals swore loudly in agony, whipping his hand away and collapsing on his left side in front of 2D’s long legs, sucking his bleeding fingers into his mouth desperately. 2D began to shake with fear at the realization of what he has just done. 

“O-Oh, shite! M-Murdoc, are yew okay?!” The singer hastily picked up the card, smoothing out the diagonal fold that ran through the cardboard heart. The singer has never felt so terrified and happy at the same time. 

Holy shit, he surely thought that he was going to piss himself.

“No, I’m not, yew bleedin’ sod! What the ‘ell?!” The bassist hissed and winced over his fingers before going deathly silent; the singer’s knees felt weak as he watched Murdoc’s eyes lock onto the card in his hands.  
‘Th-Tha’ card...:” Murdoc gulped, his voice wavering, “I’s for Noodle, not yew! Pu’ it down.”

2D smirked, chuckled, and read the familiar cursive handwriting on the back of the card. Bullshit, the singer smiled internally.

“So, Muds, why are yew callin’ Noodle a ‘singer with the vocals of an ancient God’ or is this a typo?” The vocalist questioned, gazing down at Murdoc playfully. The bassist began to pick himself up slowly, pitifully accepting that he has been caught.

“Oh! Wait, hold on a second. This can’ be a typo; i’s handwritten.”

“Yeah, yeah, enough already.” The bassist sighed, a saddened glaze over his mismatched eyes that he hid with his fringe, masking it in an angry-appearing gaze. “Yew go’ me, face-ache. All them cards? Mine. I wrote them. Fuck you, too, by the way.”

2D’s mouth fell open, slowly curving into a smile as he dropped the card to the ground. Murdoc sighed and looked around awkwardly before turning his back to head into his trashy, man-thong littered bedroom, making pre-arrangements to drink away the day, when his singer yanked him towards him, pushing their lips together harshly.

Tears threatened 2D’s eyes as he let everything settle in. 

It had always been Murdoc, and 2D was beyond relieved when the bassist kissed him back passionately.


End file.
